


There's a Thunder in Our Hearts, Baby

by universe



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Bodyswap, F/M, POV Multiple, POV Outsider, Personal Space, Touching, five things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-18
Updated: 2011-01-18
Packaged: 2017-10-14 21:00:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/universe/pseuds/universe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Five ways John and Elizabeth look at each other.</i> ...and five ways they are completely obvious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's a Thunder in Our Hearts, Baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hihoplastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hihoplastic/gifts).



  
_one;_  


The first time Elizabeth notices how often John is touching her is very early on in their relationship.

It’s her first official trip off-world; the plan is for her to negotiate a trade agreement between the people of Atlantis and a remote planet largely dependent on agriculture. She had tried to assure him she didn’t need a guard, and when he wouldn’t even let her finish the sentence, had tried to convince him to just let Lorne go with her. But he had refused every attempt, insisting she be accompanied by his entire team.

Elizabeth is still silently glaring at his back. She hates being overruled by the military. But deep down she knows he’s right, and since this is a military decision, she abides. (Barely.) They’re slowly getting over their initial differences, and it’s not easy for her to allow someone else to be in command, not even of her own safety. _Especially_ not of her own safety, not when there are much more important things to protect.

Teyla is right behind her, while Ford tries to keep Rodney from stopping every few minutes. She stifles a laugh when she hears another “Oh! I should take readings of that, just to be sure!” from a few feet away.

Sheppard turns around and nods to Teyla, telling her without words to check up on the scientist. He keeps going, so Elizabeth figures she’s supposed to follow.

“You know, you don’t need to glare daggers at me for wanting to make sure you’re okay,” he says once they’re out of earshot, stopping so abruptly she almost ends up running into him.

He turns towards her, and for one fleeting moment, she considers simply denying it, but seeing the way his eyes narrow makes her falter.

“I’m just saying I don’t need to be treated like a child. I can take care of myself.”

It’s obvious that there’s a rebuttal on the tip of his tongue, but instead of giving voice to it the way she _wants_ him to, he only turns away again. This is what infuriates her the most about this man: his inability to communicate verbally. (She’s never lost a match with words between them, but he always wins the staring contests. And that just gets old very, very quickly.) Shaking her head, she watches him take off again and follows.

She doesn’t see the small hole in the ground, doesn’t hear Sheppard’s quick intake of breath when the soil gives in under her weight. It happens so fast she doesn’t even have time to feel panic. What she does notice, however, is the way her ankle twists, her foot only a hair’s breadth away from a sprain. She expects a sharp pain, but it never comes. Instead, there are strong arms wrapped around her and she’s being pulled up slightly. When she looks up, John is closer to her than he’s ever been, and her head is spinning from something more than just the almost-fall.

There’s something between them now, a different kind of tension than the one that often rears its ugly head, whenever they’re fighting about the city or off-world missions. This is more palpable and at the same time more confusing. It’s something she’s not _used_ to, and it shouldn’t be happening. And the fact that he’s still _looking_ at her, like _that_ , doesn’t help matters either. She thinks she wants to kiss him.

Somewhere behind her, a woman clears her throat. Teyla. Oh god, Teyla! She all but jumps away from John, no longer relying on his hands to hold her up. Ford seems a little uncomfortable, and Rodney looks like he always does, completely unfazed by (or oblivious to) whatever it was that just happened between her and John.

“What are we waiting for? I thought you said we were in a hurry?”

Next to her, John growls, obviously biting back a snide remark, and for whatever it’s worth, she’s sure they’ll get through this. Somehow.

 

  
_two;_  


The first time John realises he can’t keep his hands off Elizabeth is also the moment he realises he’s in love.

She’s not the only woman he touches, not by far. He touches Teyla every time they spar (well, _she_ touches _him_ , because if he’s honest with himself, he usually doesn’t come anywhere near her before she delivers her blows). He shakes other women’s hands all the time, especially on missions. And he’s had the occasional… closer physical contact with off-worlders. With Elizabeth, though, everything is different.

 

John likes to sort things into categories.

He has friends. Teyla definitely counts as one, and Carson, and Ronon. And most of the time, even McKay, although he’d never admit this out loud, especially not to Rodney himself.

He has alien girls. He doesn’t deny it. He’s just a guy, and he knows many of his officers have had… _encounters_ with people of the opposite sex, both off-world and among expedition members. He doesn’t ask, and they don’t have a problem as long as everybody keeps doing their jobs.

He has his teams, the people under his command. They don’t talk to him much, but he never expected them to. He’s their commanding officer, and while command structures tend to get a little fuzzy on Atlantis, they all know he’s The Man.

All things considered, his relationships add up to a fairly normal life. Well, not counting the life-sucking aliens, the ancient ( _Ancient_ ) city and the fact that they’re a whole galaxy away from home. Somehow, they’ve managed to become a family.

And then there’s Elizabeth. He doesn’t dare think he “has” her, like he has his friends. And that’s where his problem starts. Elizabeth is her own category, and he doesn’t usually _do_ that. Sure, his wife ( _ex-wife_ ) had been a category of her own, but that was more a sub-category belonging to his screwed-up family or maybe among the group of closest friends. Elizabeth doesn’t seem to fit in anywhere in his carefully constructed system of relationships, and that confuses him more than it has any right to.

For the first time in years—or maybe ever—, his system no longer works. And no matter how often he tries to push thoughts of this, of _her_ away, they have the annoying tendency of sneaking back into his subconscious at the merest glance or touch.

John is sure he has touched Elizabeth a million times already. Arms brushing against each other when they’re walking through the hallways of their city. Knees bumping together under the tiny tables in the mess. Hand-shakes when they first met, casual pats of her hand on his elbow, just like she does with everyone else, too. And that one time when they were stuck in a transporter and ended up arm-wrestling because they were so bored. (He was so close to letting her win when Rodney’s and Radek’s joint efforts got them out of the tiny compartment.)

This time, it’s no different. He hands her a file during a meeting, her fingers glide over his by accident, and nobody else notices anything, despite the fact that some sort of electric jolt spreads over his body, leaving goose bumps all over his skin, and he visibly shivers.  
He doesn’t even think _she_ noticed, until her sparkly eyes meet his, looking decidedly wicked, and… _shit_.

 

  
_three;_  


The first time Kate Heightmeyer observes physical contact between the leaders of this mission is when they’re not even themselves. In a manner of speaking, that is.

 _John Sheppard and Elizabeth Weir have switched bodies_ , her report will say. Doctor McKay had found another ancient device, and instead of following protocol, he was still playing around with it while showing it to the Colonel and Doctor Weir. Suffice to say, the following few minutes involved a loud bang, fainting and a whole lot of chaos.

At first, the two handled themselves well. When, after three days, Rodney had still not figured out how to get them back into their own bodies, however, Carson all but ordered them away from each other to end their shouting match.

Kate is completely clueless as to what to do (–after all, she hasn’t often had to deal with people stuck in other people’s bodies before–), but if there’s anything she can do to help, she will. That’s why they’re here now, sitting in her office, obviously attempting to ignore each other.

“So,” she tries to break the ice. “Doctor Becket tells me you’re both in perfect health, so that shouldn’t be a problem.” Her question-turned-statement is met with silence, so she tries the more direct approach:

“Do either of you want to tell me what the problem _is_?”

More silence.

“You both know that you’re not getting out of here unless you start talking to me. Carson won’t let you go back to work until this issue is resolved.”

“There’s nothing to _resolve_ ,” Eliza– John growls. (This session is going to give Kate the worst headache in a long time.)

“I disagree, Colonel. Now you can either both cooperate and just tell me what is bothering you, or you can keep being stubborn until I get out my Inkblot Test ca–“

”He tried to shave my _legs_!” Elizabeth blurts out.

“I wanted to do her a _favour_!” comes Johns prompt reply.

“You almost cut open half of my body!”

His voice is softer when he replies:

“I know, it hurt like hell. … I don’t even know why you women do that to yourselves anyway.”

“That’s beside the point, John.”

In the few seconds of silence that follow, Kate thinks about asking why he tried to shave his (Elizabeth’s) legs in the first place, but quickly decides she doesn’t really want to know. Besides, bringing it up again would only upset them more.

“What else has happened that’s straining your relationship?”

It’s a dangerous question to ask, but if they don’t deal with this right here, right now, they’ll probably kill each other later.

They’re both looking away now, and Kate thinks she sees Elizabeth blushing. It’s one of the weirder moments of her life, that much is certain.

“Come on, out with it.”

Elizabeth cleared his throat, her voice a whisper.

“He saw me naked.”

Oh dear. That’s enough to shift any normal relationship, for the better _or_ for the worse, but she’s been around these two people long enough to know that there’s nothing _normal_ about them.

“How did that happen, John?”

Watching Elizabeth(’s body) squirm is a sight she’s never seen before, either. Ever. But Kate waits patiently.

“I… had to. I felt all icky and weird. So I took a shower!”

“You were touching my breasts!” an angry John shouts from the other side of the couch.

“Well how else do you expect me to shower?”

One step closer to solving the problem, Kate interrupts them.

“How about this? John, you’ve seen Elizabeth naked. I suggest Elizabeth sees you naked once, too, and then you’re even. And after that, no more showers! You’ll be fine without them for a few days.”

Both leaders fall silent for a moment, but then the bickering starts right up again, as if they never even heard her.

“You can’t just go and take a shower in my body whenever you feel like it!”

“For the tenth time, I was doing you a _favour_!”

“I don’t need favours from you! I need to you keep your hands off of my body!”

This feels increasingly like couples’ therapy, but Kate would swallow her own tongue before she would ever voice that thought. Instead, she raises her voice slightly.

“Enough.”

Surprisingly, the authority she’s exuding now is enough to shut them both up.

“John,” she looks at Elizabeth, “you’re going to apologise for all the things you did that Elizabeth didn’t agree to. And you, Elizabeth,” she turns to John, and really, this thing needs to be over now, “you are going to give John some leeway. It’s the first time he’s trapped in a woman’s body. He’s bound to be overwhelmed by the complicated thinking patterns.”

That earns her a smirk that looks entirely too chauvinistic from one side and an outraged cry from the other.

“Now shake on it.”

It’s a silly ritual, but Kate knows from experience that it makes things more official, more like a contract than just a simple agreement. This is a truce, between the civilian leader and the military, stuck in each other’s bodies. (No matter how many times she thinks it, it just doesn’t lose any of its ridiculousness.)

Doctor Weir and the Colonel scowl for a long moment, but Elizabeth takes the first step, John’s hand extending confidently once she’s made her decision. The Colonel follows suit, and the hand shake makes the atmosphere in the room shift.

There is less space between them now, and Kate files that as a success. (She’ll take whatever she can get at this point.) But they’re already close to another fight, she can feel it simmering under the carefully constructed surface of peace and calm. Nothing has been _resolved_ yet. And her head feels like it’s going to split in two any minute now. She doesn’t usually let her patients see her own weaknesses, especially not while in the capacity of being their therapist, but this time, she can’t stop herself from rubbing her temples to stave off the pain. She doesn’t think they even notice, as wrapped up in each other as they are.

“Alright,” she says then. “Why don’t we continue this tomorrow? You look like you could both need some rest. From each other,” she adds, sending pointed looks to them. She waits for them to nod, and then gets up.

John and Elizabeth (Elizabeth and John) follow, but there’s something off, and before Kate knows it, Elizabeth has stumbled, one of her high-heeled shoes twisting in a way that doesn’t look healthy at all, and John catches her. Except… it was John who fell and Elizabeth who caught him. It takes a moment for that thought to register, because Kate is distracted by the looks they’re giving each other.

And then it hits her: She has never seen Doctor Weir this open. Around anyone. Now it’s obviously not _her_ , but _John_. And yet, for a moment, she thinks this is the woman Elizabeth could be if she let herself. If she didn’t put Atlantis and her responsibilities before everything else. And the way John’s (Elizabeth’s) eyes have softened tells Kate everything she needs to know.

Coughing once, she purposely breaks the spell between them. This is neither the time nor the place to deal with whatever issues they have. She just prays to whoever will listen that the city isn’t the only thing keeping these two apart.

 

  
_four;_  


The first time Teyla sees the physical manifestation of how much they care for each other is during an outbreak of a particularly nasty stomach flu that has half the city’s population in quarantine. She has been spared so far, as have the Colonel – _John_ – and Elizabeth. She knows Carson is doing the best he can, but it’s still disconcerting to see people hunch in the corridors because they didn’t make it to the next bathroom.

She’s on her way to the control room to discuss the possibility of evacuating the city to the mainland, just as long as people are still getting sick, when she sees John double over in pain in Doctor Weir’s office. A split second before she can rush up the stairs to help him into the infirmary, she catches a glimpse of curly, brown hair. Knowing Elizabeth is there to help him instantly slows her down. Not that she’s not still worried about him, but she knows he’s in good hands. Literally.

Half-way through the control room, Teyla comes to a halt. The affection between John and Elizabeth has always been obvious to her. She has never mentioned it to either of them, or anyone else, because that’s not what she does. She observes. She keeps these observations hidden, and only alludes to scenes she witnessed when needed.

This scene now will be among the ones she’ll never bring up, she knows that now. John is kneeing in the middle of Doctor Weir’s office, his eyes shut tight, and managing to look both pale and more than slightly green at the same time. But that’s not what makes this moment worth remembering, no. It’s the hand that’s resting on the Colonel’s back, stroking slowly up and down, intended to soothe. Elizabeth’s hand.

It takes Teyla a few seconds to realise why exactly she feels humbled by the scene unfolding before her, but then she remembers that Doctor Weir doesn’t touch people like this. She shakes hands, she reassures people with simple pats of her hand, but it’s never like this. Teyla has always thought Elizabeth withdraws too often, spends too much time all by herself, but whenever she tries to mention it to the leader, nothing comes of it. (Teyla can’t really blame her, she knows what it’s like to take care of a people, knows the weight of responsibility.)

The cough that comes from John sounds worrying, but she’s not the only one who heard it, and she knows Elizabeth would make sure John got checked out as soon as he was able to move again. That she would not take no for an answer, not from him, not from anyone. She’ll help him, accompany him all the way to the infirmary. ( _That_ is something she only does for him.) Teyla smiles to herself and quietly leaves the control room to see if anybody else requires help.

John has all the company he needs.

 

  
_five;_  


The first time Rodney realises they’re touching more than usual is a few minutes before a schedule meeting with the Genii. They’re still all weary of their new _allies_ , which explains the chaos brought on by the preparations for having former enemies in their city.

If Rodney wasn’t Rodney, he’d have forgotten all about his most recent observation, but, genius that he is, new knowledge that cannot yet be processed lodges itself in his subconscious, to be dug out and stripped apart at a more appropriate time.

So when Sheppard’s hand ends up on the small of Elizabeth’s back as if by accident, Rodney brushes it off as a gesture of support, maybe even guidance, and thinks nothing of it.

It’s not until much later, while letting his mind replay the day’s events for his report, that he fully realises what he witnessed there.

He’s seen Sheppard around women before, around _countless_ women, actually. It always seems as if there’s an infinite number of gooey eyes following the Colonel’s every move. He knows Elizabeth doesn’t look at him like that.

He’s also seen Sheppard flirt. With alien women (and the occasional female scientist on Atlantis), he always uses the same tactic, and most of the time, it works, to Rodney’s continuous surprise. With Elizabeth, however, Rodney has come to realise, Sheppard’s main aim is to make her laugh. She does look very pretty when she laughs, Rodney thinks, but that’s the only sensible reasons he can come up with for why Sheppard would go through all this trouble, when she clearly isn’t interested. Or at least, that’s what he used to think.

Now that he is paying attention to how close they stand together, and how often John’s hands are on her back, her arms, on one occasion even her leg, he’s no longer sure about her lack of interest. Were it anyone else, she would surely push their hand away.

He’s seen Elizabeth around men before. Most expedition members are male, and she has to deal with them on a daily basis. She has earned everyone’s respect, and even more than that from some. He’s not ashamed to admit her admires her, and he knows everyone who’s close to her does too.

He’s never seen Elizabeth flirt. He figures there’s nobody who holds her interest, and the city keeps her busy anyway. She smiles at all her employees, but now Rodney realises that she has different smiles for each and every one of them. There’s the friendly, but distant smile she gives those of them she wishes she knew better, but doesn’t. Then there’s the forced one when Chuck brings her a new pile of paperwork to sort through.

And there’s what he likes to think of as the Rodney smile. He knows it is slightly annoyed most of the time, but really, she’s not a scientist and thus cannot understand the genius behind his plans. But now he notices something else. Sheppard gets his own smile, too, and he has never seen Elizabeth use it with anyone else. It also never fails to make Sheppard grin back at her. There’s something about that smile, something unsettling that Rodney can’t quite place.

For all his cleverness, it takes him embarrassingly long to find out what exactly is behind it.

 

  
_six;_  


The first time Carson notices how often Elizabeth and John are touching is, well, before anyone else. The subtle glances they throw each other have never been lost on him. The first time he sees them doing it on purpose, however, is after yet another injury.

He knows almost all of Atlantis’s secrets; the entire expedition has been in his infirmary at some point, and they can never hide anything from him. And they don’t want to, either. There’s Doctor Heightmeyer, of course, whom he has the utmost respect for, but while some people see her regularly, most of them still prefer talking to him (even when they don’t want to talk at all). Being a doctor has always been about more to him than just stitches and bandages, painkillers and surgeries.

That’s why it’s no surprise to him that when Colonel Sheppard has been injured for the third time this month, Elizabeth is right there. He has yet to wake up from the surgery they performed to remove a bullet from his leg, but knowing John, that would not take long at all.

Whereas everyone but the night shift has gone to bed already, Elizabeth has been sitting by John’s side for several hours now. The last time he checked up on them, she was still a few feet away, most of her attention on mission reports or something equally important. After everyone but him and the emergency nurse had left, however, she scooted closer and closer. Her tablet lies forgotten on a chair now, her hand on John’s, and she appears lost in thought.

Carson considers bringing her coffee, but he knows she hasn’t been sleeping well, so he settles for tea instead. Before he can even leave the room, though, he hears a loud cough, and rushes in to see what is going on.

Behind the curtain, the Colonel is waking up, still coughing, but alright, considering the circumstances. Noticing his tight grip on Elizabeth’s hand, Carson only briefly checks his vitals and asks him how he’s feeling. Once he has made sure John’s not in too much pain, he tells him to rest, and turns to Elizabeth.

“I was just about to get some tea, would you like some?”

She shakes her head with a smile.

“No, thank you. Now that he’s awake, I’ll probably go to bed soon.”

“You do that, love,” he replies, but they both know she won’t be leaving for a while. And sure enough, when he comes back from the galley, she’s still sitting right where he left her, possibly even closer than before; their talking softly, and she still hasn’t let go of his hand.

Suddenly, the silence is interrupted.

“Hey, Carson!”

“Rodney! What are you doing up so late?”

He can tell from the way Rodney beams at him he’s been drinking too much coffee again.

“I came to see how Sheppard was doing.”

“He’s doing fine now. We managed to get the bullet out, and his leg should be back to normal in a few weeks. In fact, he just woke up!”

If at all possible, Rodney’s grin gets even wider.

“So can I go in now?”

Carson shakes his head.

“Sorry, lad, the Colonel needs his rest. Come back tomorrow, will you?”

For a moment, Rodney looks like he’s about to protest, but then he hears Elizabeth’s voice drifting out from behind the curtain.

“Of course. Tell him I stopped by.”

Carson nods and smiles. _They_ might think they’re not completely obvious, but he’s pretty sure everybody on Atlantis knows they mean a lot more to each other than they’re willing to admit.


End file.
